Our Secret
by megelizabethvh88
Summary: A story of the secret relationship Eric and Michael try to keep, but nothing can keep their passion from showing. SLASH. M for Mature just to be sure.
1. Chapter One

**A/N: **This is just a warning that the story you're about to read contains mature content. It is rated so for language and sexual comments. These are things that I feel are in everyday life and because it is in everyday life, it shouldn't be excluded from what we read. Also, I like to put these "characters" (real life people) and put them in this "everyone/most everyone is gay" universe, or the "the six members of Monty Python and their lovers are gay, everyone else isn't and they don't have wives or children" universe that I really, really like. So there's lots of man on man relationships in here. This warning was written for you, the reader, to be prepared for what your eyes may seek, and thank you for taking the time to read my stories. So if you don't like it, then get the hell out of here.

Sincerely, the author

* * *

><p>For once in the history of Monty Python, Graham was on time. It was a strange thing to take place and he was glad that some of the others were here to see him walking into the diner at noon, instead of almost an hour late. "Where are they?" he glanced at the clock behind him. "It's well after noon. We were supposed to meet here, right?"<p>

"The diner at noon," his lover David agreed, drinking his glass of water.

"Let's just start lunch without them, I'm starving," John folded up his newspaper and set it on the table. "If they want to be late, then let them. I'm not going to sit here and wither away,"

Terry J glanced at the clock as well, not realizing that it was twelve thirty. "Shit. We have to be at the studio by one," he glanced briefly at the menu and sighed. "I agree with John. Let's eat,"

"Oh, look, there's Terry," David gestured to the door.

Terry G came rushing into the diner, clearly having overslept and he didn't have time to gather all of his animation scraps. "Sorry, guys," he breathed heavily as he sat with them at the booth and surveyed the group. "Where's Mike and Eric?"

"No idea," Graham shrugged. "Why are you running so late?"

"I overslept," Terry replied. "And I was trying to catch up on the animations before lunch and I lost track of time – "

David reached over to Terry's collar and pulled it aside, and even though Terry tried to pull away, they saw it. "Ew!" Graham cringed at the giant purple bite mark, which was fading to yellow.

John was grimacing as well. "Where did you get that? It's disgusting!"

"Let me guess," David crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, grinned. "You met a hot young trick named Jim on your way home last night and you took him home and had great sex with him. Of course, he stayed the night and of course, you had to fuck him again this morning. That lead to you being late because…well, you had sex on your animation table and it scattered all your little paper bits and you had to try to put it all back together before lunch today."

Terry's head dropped to his chest and he let out a deep sigh. "His name was Vic, but all the other stuff sounds pretty accurate,"

The three other men clapped for David's correct figuration. "That was very good, darling. How did you figure that all out?" Graham asked.

"I had a similar experience once," David admitted. "I still can't believe how quickly this happened. You know, Terry, all of a sudden how you came out and now you're interested in only men,"

"I think it would explain a lot to our audience members," Terry G said. "You know, since we've been dressing in drag for the past year. Do any of you have any change so I can use the pay phone?"

The men fished some change from their pockets and handed it over to Terry, who went to call Michael and Eric. "Well, at least four of us showed up," John said quietly. "It's not like we have more episodes to write or anything. It's just lunch and a script read at the studio,"

David gave him a look. "Well, they've been carpooling together for the past couple of weeks. Maybe one of their cars are down, maybe they're waiting for a cab…maybe they were murdered brutally by a psycho killer. Maybe they just didn't want to show up, maybe one of them is sick, I don't know,"

"Maybe it's one of one thousand reasons, but I never made us late for meetings," Graham replied. "I never risked work for drinking or sex or staying out late,"

"Mhm," David murmured under his breath, taking another drink of water. "Whatever you say, dear."

They waited for Terry, who came back shaking his head moments later. "I can't get a hold of either of them. I guess we'll just continue with our lunch and head over to the studio to continue this meeting,"

"I say we go round them up and go to the studio," Graham decided. "After Terry continues telling us all about Vic…"

* * *

><p>By now, it was a quarter to one and Michael and Eric were located in Eric's kitchen. Usually, his small house was a mess, with the sink full of dirty dishes and his bed unmade, his clothes flung around his bedroom and the wooden floor had dust bunnies in the corners. He was very busy with work, trying to write new sketches and at one point, he had been thinking about working on a play, and sometimes, he had company that he was able to keep out of his messy kitchen. But lately, thanks to Michael, he had been able (and willing) to daily keep up with the cleanliness. This morning, however, the counters had breakfast and lunch items covering the counter, and the two men were still not dressed properly for the day. "You want eggs in a basket?" Eric asked.<p>

"Yes, two please," Michael said distractedly, as he was leaning against the counter, reading a magazine.

"Oh 'please'," Eric teased, cutting a circle into a piece of bread. "Aren't you proper? Hand over the eggs,"

Michael handed him two eggs. "I thought it would even out with everything I said last night and this morning,"

Eric couldn't help but agree that Michael had said some terribly naughty things the night before, and that morning. He prepared Michael's breakfast in the pan and went to make his own, but paused to look back at Michael, who was deep into the magazine article. "Will you stop reading that damn magazine and pay attention to me?" he demanded.

"Can you hold on for a minute?" Michael held up one finger, trying to finish reading quickly as he knew that Eric didn't like to have the attention off of him for too long. With a sigh, Eric closed the refrigerator and went to stand next to Michael, reading over his shoulder and trying to make him be noticed. "Alright, I'm done," Michael closed his magazine and laid it on the counter. "So what do you think they'll say about us missing lunch?"

"Tell 'em to fuck off," Eric replied.

Michael rolled his eyes. "What will _they_ say?"

"Tell 'em we were fucking," Eric ignored the question as he moved up against Michael, placing his hands on the counter on either side of him. "Which is something I'd like to get back to doing, if that's alright?"

"Is that so?" Michael asked. He reached for his cigarettes, put one between Eric's lips, and lit it. "I'm sure that would be so easy for them to accept. First Graham is gay, then Terry, and now us. _And_ we're fucking each other,"

Eric smoked. "I never said I was gay," he removed the cigarette from his mouth, not looking Michael in the eye. "Can't believe you went back to smoking, after that '_I quit, I quit, oh it's so easy'_ nonsense. You're quite the hypocrite, you know,"

"I resent that remark," Michael protested.

With that comment, they kissed. Eric's hand moved behind Michael's head, fingers entangling in his dark hair that was starting to grow out 'too long'. Michael kept saying that he was going to get it cut, that he like his hair shorter and that it was getting 'too long', although he like how Eric's hair was growing longer. His lover's hands moved down and touched the bottom of Michael's undershirt and he slowly pulled the white material over his head, dropping it to the floor. Suddenly, Eric turned Michael around and pressed him against the counter and stood very closely behind him, making an excited grin spread over Michael's face. Cigarette clenched between his teeth, Eric began to knead Michael's spine, pressing with his fists to make it crack and pop. "I'm beginning to wonder why no one has called us and asked where we are,"

Michael gestured to the phone, which was off the hook on a small table in the dining room. "Because you pulled the phone cord out last night before we got in bed. OW!" he winced. "You got hot cigarette on my back!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Eric held the cigarette out as far as he could and bent over to kiss Michael's back. "I'm incredibly sorry, Mikey. Please forgive me. Wait, don't – I should be punished!"

"No, because you'd like it," Michael reached over his shoulder to touch the spots. "Maybe we should have gone to lunch. I don't think I can take this abuse much longer,"

"Oh, please," Eric rolled his eyes and continued pressing into Michael's back.

They were quiet for a few moments and the only sounds were outside traffic and Michel's satisfied sighs. "It's ironic, isn't it?"

"What is?" Eric asked, reaching over Michael's head to give him the cigarette.

He smoked slowly and let the smoke rings float away. "That we were more like business partners than friends, and now we're fucking," he smoked again. "I mean, we were – _are_ – still friends, but not as good of friends as we could have been,"

Eric's hands were slowing their movement, stopping momentarily when the cigarette was passed back to him. "I think you're using the wrong word because I don't think it's really irony…you were always closer to Terry Jones. In fact, I'm surprised you two haven't matched up yet. Are you sure he isn't interested in men?"

"I haven't matched up with him because I like being matched up with you," Michael told him, and when Eric's hand moved over his arm, he trapped it between his shoulder and cheek to kiss his fingers.

Eric put the cigarette out in a water glass, then turned Michael around and cradled his lover's face in his long, slender fingers and kissed him. Michael's arms moved around Eric's body and he squeezed him tightly, making Eric shudder as Michael's large hands grazed up and down his back and up his sides to his front. Michael removed the open button down shirt that Eric had slept in and dropped it on top of his, and began to push down Eric's shorts. "So can we get back to fucking?" Eric joked.

"Please, can we?" Michael tilted his head back, his eyes slowly closing as Eric's mouth trailed over his neck and down his chest, leaving a slick trail of saliva as he removed Michael's shorts."Please…_oh God_ – "

"Fuck!" Eric interrupted him and moved away. Michael's eyes opened to see Eric grabbing a smoking pan off the stove top and throwing it into the sink, quickly moving to turn on the faucet and open the kitchen window to let the smoke out. "Sorry, Mikey," he turned around sheepishly as the dark smoke moved out the window. "I burnt your basket."

Michael looked at him in disbelief. "Fuck the basket," he said, and pushed Eric up against the pantry door, kissing him hungrily and moving his hand quickly in between their waists – _BANG BANG BANG!_ Someone was knocking on the front door, and they tore apart from each other. "What the fuck?" Michael's voice was just above a whisper.

"Who is it?" Eric's called to the visitors; his voice sounded strangled and odd.

"Grandma is here, come give her a kiss!" Terry Jones replied in his odd female voice.

Eric slammed his fist against the pantry door in irritation, and both men quickly went for their clothes. The thought of them being caught, being outed like this – their friends, co-workers, what have you, catching them having sex – how embarrassing. Once their shorts were pulled up and Eric's shirt was buttoned again, they gave each other a quick look over as Michael adjusted his white undershirt. "We'll finish this later, right?" Michael asked. The answer was a quick, but deep kiss.


	2. Chapter Two

"Jesus, you guys," Eric complained as he opened the front door. "What the fuck are you doing here? You scared the shit out of us,"

"Us?" Terry G asked as he pushed forward, rushing to use the bathroom before he exploded. Lately, any beverage was due to be his enemy within thirty minutes of consumption. "Is Mike here? I thought I saw his car out front,"

The rest of the group came in after him and Eric shut the door, almost slamming it. He was clearly angry with their surprise arrival, and the lack of ejaculation was affecting his mood even more. "Well, perhaps if you two didn't miss lunch with us, then we wouldn't have to come over here and bother you," John said sarcastically.

"Completely not my fault," Eric told him, although it was half his fault.

He followed them into the kitchen, with them not knowing that only minutes before, an escapade of sex (a sexcapade) was taking place. Michael was quickly cleaning up the remains of their romantic brunch, putting away bread and eggs, hiding the tiny tea light candles that littered the counter by scooping them in a small drawer and nudging the ones on the floor away with his bare feet. "Mike, what are you doing here?" Terry J asked, having missed out on the conversation previously, and was now noticing the choice of clothing.

Michael realized that Terry had noticed his clothes and he glanced down to make sure that his erection was gone. "We were writing last night – we got some really great sketches – and it was getting late, so I stayed here. You heard how hard it was raining last night, didn't you?"

"It looks like you two had quite a party here last night," John said, noticing a couple of forgotten candles and the bottles of alcohol that filled the trash can. Thankfully, they had finished the cheese and grapes, and the steaks were stowed away in their stomachs to be digested into waste. "Did you have a couple of ladies here last night?" he picked up Michael's magazine and began to read.

Eric and Michael shared a glance, then nodded quickly to get the question out of the way. They had both been thankful for the heavy rain and the few claps of thunder, for the sex had gotten a little louder and a little more wild than normal. Michael touched his wrists to feel the rough burn of the scarf that had been wrapped around them the night before, and looked up quickly when Graham laughed. "Sounds a bit like Terry's night. What was his name again?"

Terry had rejoined them and groaned when the question was asked. "His name was Vic…and I'm going to see him again sometime this week,"

"Sounds serious," Graham teased.

"How about you two go get dressed and we'll head over to the studio?" Terry J suggested to Eric and Michael. "We're late enough as it is, thanks to you lot,"

Terry G hoisted himself up onto the counter and dug into the fruit bowl, selecting the right pieces for his eating. "We had to call and tell them that we wouldn't be there until one thirty, and some people are upset,"

John closed the magazine, frustrated. "I just want to be on time and read through the script so when we start filming tomorrow, everything is okay. And now they have new sketches – "

"Calm down, John," Eric told him, waving away his words and frustration. "Come on, Mike, let's go get ready,"

They moved up the stairs into his bedroom as fast as they could, closing the door to separate their whispers from their friends. "That was close," Michael sighed against the door. "We can't miss anymore lunches or else they'll start to figure things out,"

Eric huffed over to his closet, flinging the door open and ruffling through his shirts. "Here," he pulled out a striped button down shirt from the depths of his clothes and handed it to Michael. "You left this here last week,"

"Thanks," Michael took it and removed his dirty undershirt. He put on the clean shorts, turning towards the mirror to watch himself button the shirt to make sure he got each one where it belonged. He could see Eric moving in behind him, encircling his body with his thin arms. "Eric, they can probably hear us, stop it,"

Ignoring his protests, Eric moved around to face him and finished buttoning his shirt, then held Michael's hands."Think they can hear this?" he asked. "You know I'm into you and only you, right?"

"I thought you weren't gay," Michael mocked him, thinking that Eric's voice sounded too casual. But when he looked at Eric's face, there was seriousness in how he looked. "I'm into only you too," he replied.

They were wrapped up in each other's arms and kissing, forgetting everything, until the doorknob turned. Terry J came into the room, missing them shove the other away. "Are you ready yet?"

Silence filled the room as they both wondered if Terry saw them, if he figured out what was going on…"You know how dear little Mikey is," Eric finally said. "He can't even button his shirt right, so I have to help him. He's like a little kid!"

Terry groaned. "Can you two stop fucking around and let's go? The others have left so at least some of us are there and the studio doesn't get mad at us. So come on already,"

He left the room and when the door closed, Eric burst out laughing. "Fucking around! It's almost like he knew!"

* * *

><p>The script reading went as well as normal. The six actors, plus David, a few producers, and the ever present Carol Cleveland sat around a long rectangle table, reading each page in character. Everyone agreed and disagreed, laughed and suggested, and discussed Terry's animations, and it was over in a couple of hours. "Thanks for coming in today everyone," one producer said. "I know we got off to a late start, but it's always worth it to weed out all the shit on the script before we film it,"<p>

"Can someone explain why we had to postpone this by half an hour?" another producer asked, lighting a cigarette.

The actors all slowly turned to face Eric and Michael, who were sitting across from each other at the opposite end of the table. No one could see that their shoes were off under the table, and Michael's foot was in Eric's lap, circling, up and down, moving slowly against him. As Eric's hand went below the table to adjust him with the decision to follow that up by massaging Michael's foot, they both noticed that everyone was looking at them. "What happened today, you two?" the first producer leaned forward in his seat to see them better.

"We were working on some new scripts," Eric lied nonchalantly, as Michael was panicking about what to say. "Sorry. They're really good though, I promise,"

"Well, where are they if they're so good?" the second producer asked. "Did you bring them?"

"I forgot them at my place," Eric replied.

The producers glanced at each other in disbelief. "Well, let's not let these sorts of things happen again. You all have been pretty good about showing up on time for meetings and rehearsals, so let's not ruin this, okay? Keep it up!"

"I like how they talk to us like we're children," Michael said under his breath, smiling at Eric.

"Okay, we'll see you all tomorrow at eight o'clock," the producers said, pushing themselves up from the table and going off to work on other things.

Carol leaned across the table towards the two. "Don't let it happen again, boys!" she mocked them, then leaned back in her chair and laughed. "What a joke. You were late by a measly twenty minutes. What's the big deal?"

Eric shrugged. "We were just fucking around," he looked towards Michael, who was trying to burn holes into him with his eyes. If he wasn't careful, he was going to give away their secret. "Well…I think I'm going to go to the bathroom,"

He stood up and went to the hallway door, casually looking over his shoulder at Michael and spoke very plainly with his eyes, saying that he wanted Michael to meet him in there as soon as possible. "I think I'm ready to go too," John's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Anyone need a ride?"

Everyone gathered their script copies, jackets, etc., and made their way down the hallway, talking about the show and their separate lives. "You two still need a ride?" Terry J asked Michael.

"Yeah…if you would," Michael glanced in the other direction, where the bathrooms were. "Here," he handed his and Eric's coats to Terry. "I'm going to the bathroom. I'll meet you outside."

As his friend walked in opposite directions, Michael listened to their footsteps growing farther apart. He felt bad for not telling Terry about what was going on between him and Eric, and he knew that they would talk about it soon enough, but for now…he stood in front of the bathroom door and thought about what was waiting on the other side. Immediately, a smile grew on his face and he pushed through the door into the blue and white titled bathroom, which was quiet and still. He hoped that he was in the right bathroom and that Eric wasn't waiting in another one.

The handicap stall was at the other end of the bathroom and its door opened, where Eric was standing inside it. He raised his hand and curled his finger, gesturing that he wanted Michael to come closer, and he closed the door after Michael entered, separating them from the world. The inside of the stall had hearts with initials were scribbled in black marker next to phone numbers and terrible things about girls and their body parts, and they kissed against that wall and Michael clumsily fumbled with Eric's belt and zipper. With one last kiss, he went to his knees and – oh, and there it was! That smooth, wet feeling that smothered Eric, creating a deep inhale, rushing through his lungs and releasing itself with a heavy sigh. "Thank God…" he muttered, finding the handicap rail and holding tightly.

It always seemed to go so quickly, like he couldn't find the time to enjoy every second of oral sex, even though they had been in the stall for quite some time. No matter how slow they took it, it always felt rushed and it wasn't long before Eric was clinging to the coat hooks on the wall, moaning loudly and practically pulling his own hair out as he reached the edge – "Mike, are you in here?"

It felt like everything completely stopped when they heard Terry Jones enter the bathroom. Both men were stiff with panic, Michael's hands on either side of Eric's legs and his own on the railing. They didn't breathe as Terry went into the stall next to theirs. Michael gave Eric a look with his eyes that said to keep him distracted. "It's me, Terry. What are you doing in here?" Eric said to him, and then he realized that the previous sensations he had felt moments ago were going on again, that Michael was finishing! Part of him was grateful – he didn't want blue balls two times in one day; yet, he was racked with fear and disgust for Terry was so close to them at the moment that he could probably hear the suction noises as he used the stall.

"Well, I'm taking a piss," Terry replied. "You two are taking so long I figured I'd come in here before I went in the car. Are you okay in there?"

_I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum,_ Eric thought, his breath was harder. "I'm fine," he choked and his eyes squeezed shut as he had an orgasm. Michael's hand managed to find its way over Eric's mouth and stifle the moans that were spilling from his lungs. "I'm fine, Terry," he managed to blurt out between Michael's fingers.

"Are you getting sick?" Terry asked. "Do you need help?"

When Eric managed to open his eyes, he looked down at Michael, who was reaching for a wad of toilet paper from the dispenser to clean himself. He gestured for them to be quiet, then reached out for Michael's face and slowly moved his thumb against his lips to remove all the drops of cum, leaving a sticky smear. "No, I'm okay, really," Eric protested. He went for the toilet paper dispenser and stumbled over Michael's legs, falling against the stall door.

"What was that?" Terry demanded.

"Nothing!" Eric wiped himself quickly and tried to throw the toilet paper into the bowl, but it was sticking to his hand. Flapping his arm around, he tried to dispose of it and it continued to stick. He stepped on the end and realized he was still hanging out of his pants. "I'll be out in a minute,"

Terry's stall door opened and they could see his feet coming to stand in front of the stall. "Are you – "

"YES!" Eric snapped. "I'm fine! Go wait at the car!"

"I'm just trying to make sure you're okay in there," Terry was beginning to get irritated with him. "You know, I have other things to do today and waiting around for you to take a shit isn't one of them. And where the hell is Mike?"

Michael sneezed a response, flinging snot from his nose and saliva and cum from his mouth. Eric groaned, knowing that this one sneeze just gave away their secret completely. "I'm sorry," Michael whispered.

"Is Mike in there with you?" Terry asked. "Eric, I'm going to crawl under the stall if you don't open the door. Something weird is going on in – "

"Damn it, Terry…" Eric groaned.

The lock turned and Terry waited the door opened. He looked in to see Eric, adjusting his pants, and Michael, getting up off the floor as he wiped something…slick and shiny off his face. "What are you two doing in there?" Terry asked. Neither of them said anything, but it didn't take too long for Terry to figure it out and his face turned red and he walked out of the bathroom.

"He's got my jacket in his car, doesn't he?" Eric asked.

"Yes, he does," Michael said.

"Terry, wait!" Eric ran after him.


	3. Chapter Three

In Terry's car, the three actors were so quiet they might as well have been dead. Eric was in the passenger seat, cigarette smoke filling the car, as Michael sat in the backseat. His car was in the driveway and Terry parked next to it. "Thanks for the ride, Terry," Michael said quietly, waiting for Terry to say something, although he sat as stiff as a board.

Eric got out of the car, but stopped to go to Michael's open backseat window. "You are coming in to work on…those scripts, aren't you?"

"Can I talk to you for a moment, Mike?" Terry asked the steering wheel.

"Sure," Michael got out of the car, briefly touching Eric's hand before sliding into the front passenger seat. They waited until he was inside the house before Michael lit a cigarette for himself. "What did you want to talk about?"

He didn't know why he asked that, because he knew what Terry wanted to say. "What's going on with you and Eric?" Terry looked at Michael, whose heart was in his throat. "I saw you guys in his room. You were at his place all night and you two were late for lunch…and last week, I saw you together at a restaurant, like you two wanted to be alone…and then today, at the studio. What the fuck is happening?"

Michael looked at Terry's face, and he almost looked…disappointed. He couldn't keep a secret from his friend. "We've been having a…a thing going on between us for awhile,"

"A thing?" Terry repeated.

"We're fucking," Michael admitted.

Again, silence filled the car until Terry breathed heavily. "So you…you two are gay now? Like Terry and Graham and David?"

"I don't know," Michael shrugged.

"Because…" Terry started, but he couldn't finish his words. So instead, he kissed Michael.

It was as if either of them didn't realize what was happening, or who it was happening with. They kissed for awhile, long enough for Terry's arm to move across the top of the seats to pull Michael closer as his hands touched Terry's face and they were wrapped up in each other, and Michael was slowly climbing onto Terry's lap. As he moved past the steering wheel, he hit the car horn and it blared to life, startling them both. Michael shoved himself off of Terry and pressed against the door. "_When did you become gay_?" he shrieked.

"We-well, what about _you_?" Terry replied in a similar voice. "You kissed me back! And you were climbing all over me – "

"_You_ had an iron grip on _me_!" Michael said. "What the fuck? I never said I was gay!" he used Eric's excuse. "I…I just…we were drunk!"

Terry gave him a look. "You're not drunk now,"

Michael's hand covered his face. "He's going to kill me,"

"Oh, sure, worry about him!" Terry scoffed. "Someone who is just a friend who you happen to be fucking or someone who is your friend and really, really cares about you! Which one is better?"

"What are you talking about?" Michael asked, and seeing Terry's sly away, he understood. "How long have you liked me?"

Terry's hands went up in defense. "Let's not talk about this now. Mike, I'm sorry, I didn't know that would happen. Can we forget about it please?"

"You can't just lay a kiss on someone and expect them to forget about it," Michael blurted out. "Not that I could forget that…it wasn't bad at all,"

"Really?" Terry asked, a smile perking up on his face. "Want to do it again?"

Michael did want to do it again, but not now. He wasn't sure of what to say now. "Terry…I can't kiss other men, no matter how much I care about them,"

Terry nodded sadly. "I know…but it was nice, wasn't it? I've wanted to do that for a really long time,"

"It was nice," Michael agreed. They smiled at each other, and Michael gave in, leaning over to Terry to share another long kiss.

"Look out," Terry whispered against his mouth, and Michael turned to see Eric walked down the pathway towards them. "I bet he saw us. Should I just drive off?"

Eric knocked on the car window and Michael rolled it down nervously, and Eric practically crawled in the window to point at Terry. "See?" he said to Michael, grinning. "I told you he was interested in men!"

* * *

><p>The next day, everyone met at the studio to record the episode. In between takes and in the dressing room, Terry J was keeping his distance from Eric and Michael. "What's wrong with Terry today?" Carol asked the group during a take when Terry wandered away quickly.<p>

"No idea," everyone answered, while Eric and Michael exchanged a look of knowing and went off by themselves for a smoke.

"We need to figure out what to do about Terry," Michael said, sitting on the wooden bench across the room.

Eric slowly peeled off the fake mustache and beard he was wearing for the scene and stuffed them into his pocket. "I don't know what you want to do about him. He doesn't talk to us, doesn't look at us. Clearly, he's too interested in you to consider otherwise,"

Michael sighed. "Maybe if you didn't come flying out of the house, screaming '_I knew he liked men'_ – "

"I did not fly or scream," Eric replied.

"You were acting like a jealous boyfriend," Michael ended the debate.

Eric gasped dramatically. "I do _not_ act like a jealous boyfriend. I don't act like anything when we're not on set," he put his arm around Michael's back and squeezed him briefly, one of their quick interactions of the day. They weren't allowed too many of them when they were working. "What do you say we take this to the bathroom again? I'll do you this time _and_ I'll put my mustache back on. Think about how that will feel,"

Michael laughed. "Save it for some other time this week. I'd rather not get caught again." They watched as both Terrys walked by; Terry Jones looked at Eric and Michael squeezed in close together on the wooden bench. His jaw clenched and his eyes averted, putting his attention back to Terry Gilliam. Michael smoked his cigarette, which was burning as furiously as his eyes were. "We can't be like this in front of everyone. This is supposed to be between you and me, and instead, we're practically humping in public and people are going to start figuring out what's going on. It's not a secret if everyone knows,"

"You were the one who said that you wanted to keep this a secret," Eric reminded him.

"You agreed with me," Michael defended. "We need to be more secretive about it, because I can't have everyone finding out from Terry because he might say something,"

Eric shrugged. "And why not tell everyone? What does it matter? There's at least three other men interested in men here, so what's wrong with two more? We've only been pretending to be normal for a few weeks, and only Terry knows. And he's got a secret himself, so it's not like he's going to tell it to everyone without thinking that we might say something,"

"He knows I won't say anything because I wouldn't out him like that," Michael replied. "Let's talk to him about this after we film today, and we can get this whole problem settled. Then you we can stop avoiding each other like a disease and act normal again. And then, we can talk about the other stuff...I don't want to tell my parents yet, but we can at least let the others know,"

Eric's hand moved up Michael's back and rested on his shoulder, pulling them together again. If only they had known how much thought went into having a secret relationship with a co-worker, then they might not have started this. But Eric couldn't resist Michael, and he gave in. "Just one more time before we never have sex in public again?" he asked.

Michael looked around the set, seeing that everyone else was busy with sketch discussions and costume ideas, and his hand moved under Eric's arm and onto his crotch. In one movement, they moved off the bench and went for the door, and a stagehand tried to guard them away from the door with his clipboard. "Guys, we're going to be starting again in about fifteen minutes, so don't go too far," he told them.

"We're just going outside," Eric told him, and they slipped past him quickly. They didn't see Terry watching them and the disappointment once again crossing his face.

They escaped down the stairwell, stopping when Michael pulled Eric to the wall and they clung desperately to each other, feverishly kissing against the large grey heater. Eric's hands slid up the back of Michael's shirt, feeling his skin go from lukewarm to a burning fever as they moved around his sides to his front. "No, not here," Michael pushed Eric's hands from his waistband. "We can't do this here,"

Eric sighed impatiently, although he was trying to not sound that way. "You pulled me over here. You said that you wanted to," he cupped Michael's chin and kissed him deeply. "Are you sure you don't want to?"

_It's too risky. We'll get caught…someone will see. _The thoughts were flying around in Michael's head, and he wanted to badly. Not like had hadn't had enough sex in the past few weeks to last him, but lately he just turned to jelly every time they looked at each other, or even brushed against each other accidentally, or hearing Eric breathe…and shame on them for wanting to do something like this at the studio, when they had been caught yesterday. _Say no, say no,_ he told himself…and then Eric's smile perked up mischievously, and it made Michael perk up as well, although not on his face. "Okay," he agreed. "But not in the bathroom again,"

"How about the basement?" Eric suggested, gesturing to the door at the bottom of the stairs. Michael nodded and their footsteps clamored down the metal steps, the door closing quietly behind them.

The basement wasn't a cold, dark dungeon of a room. It was surprisingly free of clutter, everything was organized, and the lights were working. "This isn't as bad as I thought," Michael said nervously, and was ambushed by Eric, whose lips went from his mouth to across his chin and down his neck. "Careful, careful!" he grimaced as he felt the collar of his costume being pulled. "If you rip this, then we're in trouble,"

"Then take it off," Eric's voice was muffled against his lover's skin. His hands dropped to Michael's waistline to undo his pants. "Still want – "

There was a sound at the top of the basement stairs of the door opening, and they ripped apart, waiting for the footsteps to come towards them, and an elderly balding man came down. "What are you doing in here?" he asked them. "Aren't you in the show? Why are you in the basement?"

They couldn't think of an answer, so they just walked past him and went back up the stairs quickly, leaving the old man to ponder their appearance and go back to his hidden bottle of dark brown liquid. "Shit," Eric groaned. "Where the hell are we going to go now?"

Inside the studio, the producers wanted to finish filming. "_Where the hell are they?"_ the second producer demanded. "Did we just have this conversation? I'm ready to call this off and cancel the show! Someone go find them and get them back in here now!"

"Damn it," John pushed himself up from his chair. "I'll go find them. I'm getting tired of this shit too,"

"No that's okay!" Terry J interrupted, standing in front of John, as he knew what was going on. "I'll go find them. You're…relaxing, just stay here. No use of everyone disappearing to go find them,"

"Hurry up!" the producer shouted.

John reseated himself and Terry left the room, disgruntled. The studio was a giant place and he had no idea as of where to start looking. This was going to take awhile…he went to the basement, the bathrooms, the television room, the lobby, every where he could think of. Finally, he decided to go outside and walk around the building and have a cigarette before returning to the set and telling them that he had no idea where they were. The thought of the disappointment of his co-workers and the anger of the producers made him shudder, wishing that he could just leave and not worry about this for the rest of the day. He went outside through the back door and began walking, stopping to light a cigarette at the east corner of the building when he heard moaning. "Oh, damn," he muttered, making his way towards the noise.


	4. Chapter Four

They were in the small alley, behind a giant dumpster. Eric had Michael lined up against the brick wall, one arm wrapped around his lover's body, the other balancing them against the wall as Eric thrust into his lover. When Michael turned his head, he opened his tightly closed eyes to see Terry and they couldn't take their eyes from each other. Terry couldn't believe how turned on he was by this, feeling himself harden in his pants, which he hid awkwardly by pressing his hands against his crotch. They were having the strangest connection between them at the moment, almost as if they were fucking each other. He took a step closer, as if to move in towards the sex, and that was when Eric looked at Michael, who was making louder noises than earlier. "Is that okay?" he asked Michael and saw that his eyes were looking away; he turned his head quickly in alarm, thinking that they had been caught. "_What the fuck?"_ he pushed himself away from the wall at the sight of Terry and quickly shoved himself back in his pants.

"Oh shit," Terry muttered. "Eric, I'm sorry – "

"Are you masturbating over there, Terry? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

There wasn't much time for Terry to get away, since Eric's legs were so long that he was able to cross the alley in a few furious steps and tackle him to the ground. "Eric, stop!" Michael struggled to pull his own pants up as he tried to run to stop the fight. He grabbed Eric's arms and pulled him away, avoiding his swinging fists. "Get off of him!"

"I don't understand what's going on with you!" Eric yelled at Terry. "Are you following us?"

"I'm not trying to follow you!" Terry yelled back, pushing himself off the ground. "I have better things to do than to follow you two around everywhere and watch you fuck in an alley! I just came out here to tell you that the producers are getting pissed and want you two back inside…and wearing clothes, I'm sure,"

He watched as Eric pulled himself back together, shooting angry glares at Terry for disrupting the sex. "This is the last time this happens," Eric said to Terry. "There's no reason for everyone else to know about this. Tonight, we're going to Mike's and we're talking about this,"

Michael finished tucking his shirt in; Terry really wanted him to leave it out…_Hell, just leave all your clothes off_, he thought. "I won't say anything," he muttered under his breath.

"I guess we'll finish this later," Eric said to Michael. He saw that Terry was still looking at them, so he grabbed Michael's hand and pulled his lover right up against his chest, captured his face in his other hand, and planted a kiss on Michael's mouth, and it was the wettest kiss Terry had ever seen. He let go and left Michael looking lightheaded; he passed Terry, giving him an irritated look.

"Well…" Michael slowly walked over to Terry. "You want to help me inside? I'm…kind of sore," he gestured to his backside.

Terry looked at him, then let a scowl grow over his face. "No," he said, and went inside after Eric.

"…Damn it," Michael groaned, and slowly followed.

Everyone in the studio watched how Eric came stomping back inside, followed by a saddened Terry, and Michael, who was slowly walking as stiff legged as possible. "Are you three ready now?" Graham asked them, puffing away on his pipe. "It's getting late, we still have to finish,"

"I didn't get to!" Eric snapped, going to the makeup woman with his facial hair in hand.

"What does that mean?" Graham looked at Michael and Terry, confused.

Terry groaned, shaking his head. "Graham, it's really not worth knowing. Don't even worry about it,"

Michael found his jacket and put it on a chair like a pillow and slowly eased himself onto it. The producers finally calmed down after Eric had his facial hair reapplied and was back on set for a scene with Graham and John. Terry G made his way over to Michael with his own chair and sat next to him. "So is there anything you would like to admit to before I ask what's been going on?" he asked as he slouched in his chair.

"No, because there's nothing to admit to," Michael replied.

Terry looked as if he didn't believe him. "Uh-huh. So you guys aren't out there smoking grass or taking turns fucking the town whore?"

"I didn't even know we had a town whore," Michael pondered. "Terry, there's nothing going on. We just wanted to spend time outside,"

"Come on, Michael," the stagehand appeared. "We need you to change. Some of the upcoming scenes were switched,"

Michael slowly pushed himself out of the chair and took a few steps before Terry called to him. "Oh Mike?" he waited until Michael was looking at him. "You might want to put some kind of Vaseline on that before you do a whole lot of bending over," he grinned cheerfully at Michael, who looked shocked at what he said, before noticing someone coming into the room. "Oh great, Vic's here."

* * *

><p>That night, Michael was waiting at his kitchen table for this fiasco to take place, with an empty bottle and his glass on the table. He was impatient, ready for it all to be over, but he was nervous that this could be the end of their friendship, his strange relationship with Eric, and worst of all – the end of the show. <em>I shouldn't have gotten involved with him,<em> he thought. _I shouldn't have gone to the pub that night…shouldn't have let Eric stay here with me…should have pushed him away…_"Fuck," he muttered.

He heard the front door open and looked at the clock on the wall as Eric came in, putting his key to the front door in his pocket. It was almost eight as he removed his jacket and went for the liquor cabinet in the small kitchen, letting out a deep groan of aggravation as Michael was out of the drink he preferred. "This has been just a _wonderful_ until now, and this lack of alcohol is the cherry right on top of everything," he came back with a bottle and a glass. "I wish you would have mentioned earlier that you were out,"

"Well, I had what I wanted…it's all gone now," Michael gestured to his supplies on the table. "And I would love more, so if you want to go out and get something for yourself, please grab a bottle for me,"

"I'll settle for this," Eric sat in the seat next to him and filled his glass, drinking quickly to catch up. "What have you done all evening?"

Michael reached for Eric's bottle and refilled his own glass. "I slept. I slept and drank, and slept and drank all evening. And after this is over, all I will do is drink. I'm thinking of calling Graham and seeing if he wants to come over and drink with me,"

Eric gave him a look. "You will not! If you two drink together, something will happen and you'll make this problem even bigger,"

"Are you saying that I started all this?" Michael demanded.

"Well, if you didn't look so damn cute – "

"Terry knows."

Eric looked confused as to why Michael was telling him something he already knew, but then he realized _who_ he meant. "How does he know?"

Michael shrugged. "He knows that I was involved with something this afternoon. He told me to use Vaseline, and you know I hate using Vaseline," he slouched lower into his chair. "It's so greasy and it sticks to my clothes, so all day I have to keep pulling my shorts out of my ass,"

Eric's hand covered his face as he laughed. "It could be worse…I can't believe he knows, but he would know, wouldn't he?"

Someone knocked quietly on the front door, and Michael got up to answer it, coming back into the dining room with Terry. "Would you like a drink?" Michael asked.

"Sure," Terry sat at the table across from Eric, trying to not look at him. Michael got him a glass and filled it, and Terry drank deeply from it. The three sat in silence at the table, not looking at one another until finally, the silence was broken.

"I just want to know what is going to happen to us after this. Because what happens here tonight is going to affect us for the rest of our lives and it's going to affect the show," Michael paused. "We've worked too hard on the show to let it go just because of some issue of our sexuality and our sex,"

Terry cleared his throat, looking at Eric. "…I'm sorry about earlier today. I didn't mean to walk in on you either of the times I did…it really was an accident…" he turned to Michael then. "I'm sorry about what happened in my car. We shouldn't have kissed, and I shouldn't have held you like that," he took another drink. "I got caught up in the moment…I've cared about you for a long time, and I acted on my feelings even though I shouldn't have,"

His hands looked so small on the table that Michael had to reach for one. "You really didn't mean to?" Eric asked. "You swear that you didn't?"

"I swear," Terry promised.

As honest as he sounded, there was still a look between Terry and Michael that made Eric wonder what possibilities would happen between those two. "Because I've been thinking about this, and I think I know a way for us to get over this whole thing. Terry, I think you have deeper feelings for Michael than your saying, and I don't think you're really sorry,"

"Leave him alone," Michael scolded.

"I can't just leave him alone. He makes a move on you and then he's watching us. How do I know that he won't be watching you through your bedroom window?"

Terry looked offended. "I'm not that kind of creep. You should know me better than that,"

"We thought we knew each other very well, didn't we?" Eric retorted.

A short pause filled the room. "You don't know me very well at all," Terry finally said. "You don't know what I like to do on the weekends, or the television programs I like to watch or anything about my years at school. And you never knew how I felt about Mike,"

"Well, he never knew either," Eric stood up from the table. "But I'm going to give you a chance to show how you feel about him…you two are going to go into Mike's room and…" he paused, not believing he was going to say this. "You two are going to sleep together."

Michael and Terry looked at him, with their mouths open in shock. "Eric, are you serious?" Terry demanded, completely unsure. "I can't do that,"

Eric came around the table and took them both by the elbow. "You've always wanted to – " he said to Terry, then turned to Michael. " – And you were clearly eye fucking him earlier. So just end all this bullshit wondering and you two just go fuck already."

"You really don't want us too, do you?" Michael asked.

"Yes, I do," Eric replied and began to lead them down the hallway towards Michael's room. "You two just go in there, and I'll wait outside…I'd prefer not to hear this," he said the last part under his breath as he opened the bedroom door and pushed them inside, then shut the door and walked away. He could hear Michael calling after him, but chose to ignore him.

Finding themselves in the bedroom, they stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at it. Both were thinking of all the sex Michael had with Eric on this bed – how much sweat and cum and saliva had covered the sheets and pillows, their hands clinging to the bed frame, how it banged against the wall, the loud noises they made, their orgasms – "Mike?" Terry spoke to him.

Michael looked up, the cloud of memories around his head poofed away. "What?" he asked.

"I just said that you probably want to do me, right? Since you…well, earlier…" Terry lost his words, but Michael understood.

"Sure…I mean, it really doesn't matter," Michael opened his bedside table drawer and dug through the assortment of papers, various sex items and magazines, and found a bottle of lubricant, which he tossed onto the middle of the bed. "We can use that,"

Terry looked a little more relieved. "Oh, great," he began to untuck his shirt, which signaled Michael to also undress. When they finished, they stood naked across the bed from each other and looked at each other. "You've always had a great body," Terry commented.

"Thanks," Michael got in between the sheets and Terry followed, and they lay next to each other, and their hands automatically held between them. "Is there anything special you'd like to do?"

"Actually, this is my first time with another man," Terry admitted, not ashamed. "Better to do it with someone you care about than a complete stranger," he paused then, and nervously blurted out: "Do you want me to suck – "

"Why don't you just kiss me, and then we can get to that?" Michael suggested. Happy with the given advice, Terry laid on his side and put his hand on Michael's arm, pulling him in for a kiss. Slowly, Terry's arm encircled Michael and they moved to line their bodies together, feeling their erections growing stronger.

On the back steps, Eric took a deck of cards and was playing some sort of game, smoking a cigarette as he tried not to think of what was going on in the house. Still, the thoughts kept slipping in and he found himself slapping the cards down harder and harder until they were a scattered mess across the porch. Glancing up towards Michael's bedroom window, he could see the soft glow of his lamp and it seemed that the night air grew colder to him. He went back inside, listening to the kitchen clock as it ticked louder and louder, and he smoked the rest of his cigarette and smashed the butt down onto the arm of Michael's couch. The clock kept ticking, and he kept becoming more and more furious with himself for allowing this to happen. Why had he said they could fuck? "I'm an idiot," he told himself, finally fed up with the ticking of the clock in the silent room. He practically leapt off the couch and stormed down the hallway, but stopped with his hand just short of the doorknob when he heard the familiar sound of the bed frame hitting the wall in a fast rhythm. And then he heard moaning, and Michael's voice –

_"Oh Terry, you feel so good! You're so fucking big! Oh God! Fuck me, make me cum again!"_

And he did orgasm again – Eric couldn't believe how loud Michael was being, like Eric wasn't still in the house. So he kicked the door open, knocking it across the room and sending splinters flying. Terry was on top of Michael, whose legs were up and his wrists were bound by the black silk scarves they had bought at the sex store. The scarves that they had bought together! "_That's it!_" Eric bellowed when he saw the scarves, startling them all with his loud vocals. "Get the fuck off of him!" He took one step –

Eric's eyes blinked, finding that the cigarette smoke was in his eyes. He glanced down and saw the cards scattered on the steps, and he realized that he hadn't heard any noises. Slowly, he gathered up the mess of cards and went inside to slump on the couch.


	5. Chapter Five

Terry was a great kisser, Michael couldn't deny that, and he was great with his hands. He had moved them slowly over Michael's body, stopping to touch his erogenous zones, especially on his legs and wrists, and he took his time to stroke Michael close to the edge, stopping before he could come and ruin the moment. Although he kept trying to focus on what was happening with Terry, he kept thinking about Eric. "Okay, okay," his voice was muffled against Terry's mouth.

"Are you alright? Was that okay?" Terry's face turned worrisome.

"It's great, really," Michael smiled at him. "Um…do you want to…" he gestured to his crotch.

His bedmate agreed and went under the covers. Michael lay back again, breathing oh so slowly as he waited – _WHOOSH!_ the air left him quickly as Terry found him with his mouth. Michael couldn't believe how good it felt – for someone who had claimed that they had never done this before – and his hands slowly went down to touch the back of Terry's head with encouragement. And with that, he didn't realize he was moaning so loudly…

Eric looked up again when he heard those familiar moaning noises. Not realizing how sad he looked, he went to refill his glass and settled back on the couch again, sighing with disbelief at what he had let happen.

* * *

><p>Suddenly, the bed sheets moved and Terry came up, wiping saliva from his mouth. "Mike…I'm sorry."<p>

"What for?" Michael asked dreamily.

"I can't sleep with you," Terry sat up, wrapping the sheets around himself. "This isn't right. I can't do this to you and Eric,"

Michael sat up next to him. "What do you mean?"

Terry looked at him. "Michael, I like you – that's a crush. I'm not in love with you, not the way you and Eric are in love with each other,"

"We're not in love," Michael protested, completely baffled. "We've never been in love. In fact, we've never even said 'I love you' to one another,"

"But I can see it," Terry got out of bed and pulled on his shorts, then his pants. "And besides…I think I like someone else," he grinned.

Michael couldn't believe this. "_Who_?"

"I can't say," Terry told him, putting on his shirt and moving around the bed to sit next to Michael. "I'm really sorry. I hope you can forgive me, and we can still work together and be friends,"

Michael's face fell into his hands and he found himself laughing, not believing the ridiculousness of what was going on. "What is going on today? Terry, are you sure?"

Terry gently kissed Michael's cheek. "I can't tear apart the greatest relationship since Romeo and Juliet, or at least Romeo and Mercutio," he patted Michael's hand and smiled as sweetly as possible. "Can I use your phone in here? I'd like to call that someone,"

Michael picked up his clothes and dressed, then left Terry alone with his phone. Shaking his head in disbelief, he went to the sitting room to find the second bottle empty, a third one half gone, the ashtray full, and Eric listening to The Beatles records. He was melting across the couch, singing under his breath to the songs. "Hi," Michael said.

"Hi," Eric didn't pay attention to him. "Are you done already? That was fast,"

Michael went to the couch and sat next to Eric's outstretched legs. "Glad to see you plan on drinking me dry," he picked up the empty bottle for a closer examination.

"Sorry," Eric started to sit up, but Michael held him down. "Stop it." Eric told Michael as he crawled on top of his lover. "Stop it, get off of me,"

Michael ignored Eric's words and leaned in close to him. "He's leaving. Want to go to my room?"

"No, because I'm going to leave too, so get off of me," Eric pushed Michael, not realizing his strength and shoving him to the floor. "Oh, God, I'm sorry, Mike. I didn't mean – "

"_What the hell is the matter with you?_" Michael yelled from the floor.

For a moment, Eric had felt bad for pushing him, but the tone in Michael's voice made him feel mad again. "What's the matter with _me_? What the hell is the matter with you, Mike? How could you go in there with him?"

"You told me to go in there! You even put us in there together!" Michael reminded him, getting up off the floor. "How drunk and stupid are you right now to have to push me?"

"You didn't have to go in there with him!"

"You shouldn't have told me to! Think about the consequences of your actions!"

"But you didn't have to go in there! Don't you realize that? You could have turned around and said '_no, I don't want to go in there and throw away everything that you and I have had_'!"

"We didn't even _fuck_!"

The sound of a throat being cleared from behind them interrupted their fight. "See you tomorrow. Would either of you like a ride to the studio?" Terry asked with a quiet voice as he could hear their voices from down the hallway.

Michael forced a smile. "I would…please…" he cast his eyes to the floor, looking at the footstep patterns in the thick carpeting until Terry close the front door behind him. Eyes back up, he turned to finish the conversation, and saw Eric was gathering his things. "Where are you going?"

"Home," Eric replied. "There's been too much going on today. I'm too tired to deal with this now," he put on his coat. "So thanks for talking to Terry, like you said you would. I'll see you tomorrow,"

"Don't leave mad," Michael pleaded, and he looked so pathetic. "Please…Eric, don't leave," he sat on the couch and patted the seat next to him. "Come here."

Standing in the doorway, Eric couldn't look at him, but he couldn't stand to hear Michael sound so sad. With a defeated sigh, he turned back around and went to the couch, slumping at the other end. He didn't look at Michael, even when he put his arm around Eric, even when he held Eric's hands, even when Michael's hands held Eric's face and kissed his mouth repeatedly. "You swear you didn't fuck?" Eric's eyes were on the floor.

Michael kissed along Eric's jaw line, the kind that were feather soft and made the corner of Eric's mouth twitch in a slight smile. A kiss went to the two corners, and then Michael's mouth went to Eric's ear. "We took our clothes off," he started. "And then, we got under the covers, and we started kissing,"

"Did he get in on my side?" Eric asked.

"What if he did?" Michael said teasingly, then continued his story. "We were kissing…and he held me really close, so close that our dicks were touching,"

He tried to kiss Eric's face again, but Eric wouldn't have it. "Was his body better than mine?"

"Oh, I can't say," Michael told him. "But he did say that _I_ have a great body,"

"That you do," Eric agreed quietly.

Michael held Eric's hand. "He put his hand under the sheets and he touched my dick. He touched me all over. My chest, my back, my ass…and then, he sucked my dick. And it felt…wonderful."

"Was he better than me?" Eric asked.

"I can't say to that either," Michael couldn't ignored the groan that Eric let out and watched him reach for his cigarettes. "What do you want me to say, Eric?"

"There's nothing you can say," Eric lit his cigarette. "You're right, I asked you to do something and you did it to make me happy. I'm mad at myself for telling you too…but thanks for not sleeping with Terry,"

Michael started to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. "You're welcome," he finally said. "Do you want to stay here tonight?" he asked so quietly, he barely heard himself.

"I should probably go home," Eric decided.

"Do you want me to call a cab?"

Eric thought for a moment about how he might be able to make it home alright, despite his guzzling of delicious, yet bitter liquids, but he knew how Michael would worry. "Fine," he agreed. "It'll give me time to sober up so I can lay awake all night,"

There was a phone on the corner table, and Michael called the cab company who said it would be ten minutes. He lit his own cigarette, but chose not to re-seat himself on the couch. "So is this over?" he asked after a long pause. "Whatever we're having…are we done?"

"Do you want it to be over?" Eric asked the tan shag carpeting.

"…No," Michael said.

"Then I guess it's not over," Eric replied, and they were silent again for a long time. Michael finally sat on the couch, only at the other end. Their hands were stretched to the middle, fingers intertwined and as the minutes passed, they would move closer until they were right next to each other. "You always smell so good," Eric said against Michael's neck, smelling the dark hair and feeling his smooth face with his own cheek. "I can't ever get your smell out of my jackets after I'm with you,"

"The mornings after you stay over…" Michael began as their arms went around each other. "I hate getting out of bed because I can smell you on my sheets…no matter how many times I wash them, I can't get you out. Your clothes are still here, your shoes, your razor, your cigarettes..."

Finally, they heard the cab's horn outside and Eric's grip released Michael. "I guess I better go," he stood up and stretched his arms, his body creaking and his mouth yawning so hard it made Michael's heart twist. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Michael stayed on the couch as Eric left, and when the door locked, he turned off the lights and went to his bedroom. He didn't bother to change into any proper sleeping clothes, figuring that he would just wear the same clothes tomorrow. What was the point in changing when you had to wear something different anyway? Slowly, he rolled onto his side and buried his face in the pillow that Eric normally slept on, but Terry had laid on earlier…the smell wasn't the same as it usually was. Instead of Eric, he smelt Terry. "I can't sleep with Terry here," he said to himself, and rolled back over onto his other side, trying to rest when he heard the front door open and shut. "Eric?" he sat up.

The bedroom door opened and Eric came in, and Michael wondered if the taxi was still waiting outside in the street lights. "I forgot…I forgot to say something," Eric came towards the bed, stepping over the piles of clothes and the scattered shoes without stumbling, as if he knew the whole room by heart. Standing over the bed, his eyes went over the sheets, thinking briefly of what had gone on earlier, and dismissed the thoughts as fast as they had come. "Thanks for not sleeping with Terry."

It was then that Michael realized he could smell Eric again, and he felt the usual shivers up his spine as his body became excited, warming into a fever. He had to say what he was going to say before. "Eric, I can't sleep with anyone but you."

Those words gave Eric permission to crawl onto Michael's lap, eagerly kissing his face and neck and he accepted the fever that moved from Michael's body to his own. That was when Michael really, really wished he had taken his clothes off earlier. "I could smell you on my jacket and I really missed you," Eric told him.

"I don't want you to leave mad," Michael said.

"I'm not mad anymore," Eric settled against Michael's warm body, and they lay back on the bed, kissing long apologies for any misinterpretations that had happened with their words. "Can I stay here tonight?"

Again, Michael caught Eric's smell and smothered himself against his shoulder. "Yes," he said, inhaling against the soft material of his shirt. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you,"

"I love you," his lover replied, and they rolled together so Michael was on top, their bodies curled up in the sheets and kissing deeply. When their mouths separated, there was a look in Michael's eye that he hadn't seen before and he had to question it. "What?"

"…I want to tell everyone," Michael said. "Tomorrow, I want to let all our friends know about us."

* * *

><p>The lovers awoke the next morning, feeling as if they had the best night's sleep possible because everything was settled between them. A deep kiss was shared before Eric pulled on his shorts and went to the bathroom, and the faucet ran; Michael followed to see Eric brushing his teeth. "You know that toothbrush is mine, don't you?" he asked with a slightly disgusted look on his face.<p>

"Hey, I've had worse things in my mouth," Eric shrugged, then spit into the sink. "

Michael went to the bathtub and turned the knobs, then twisted the bottom of the spout to make the shower come on. He turned to Eric and a sly look crossed his face with his eager smile. "Care to take a shower with me?"

Eric dropped the toothbrush into the sink. "Yes please," he replied just as eagerly, and they stepped into the small shower and drew the curtain closed. Eric let Michael enclose him in his arms, pressing him against the cold shower wall and they kissed again. As their erections touched, as Michael turned Eric around, as he moved inside of him and gripped his arms and laid his cheek against Eric's shoulder blade, it was as if there had been no fight – as if nothing terrible had threatened their affection for each other.

Afterwards, they dried off and re-dressed in their shorts and undershirts and went to the kitchen for breakfast. "Are we still telling them today?" Michael asked as he took plates from the cabinet, waiting on the eggs and bacon to finish frying in the pan.

Eric finished buttering his toast and set the knife down. "I guess this is the time, isn't it?" he held Michael's hand, moving his lips over the soft skin. "You won't run out on me, will you?"

Michael turned him around. "No, I won't leave you."

Terry came to pick them up and they drove through town, exchanging secret smiles. "I'm glad we're all okay again," Terry told them. "Can't imagine another bad day with you two,"

"You made it through the first time, I think you could make it through another," Eric told him.

The producers were pleased with their timely arrival, and lectured them quickly on not disappearing during breaks anymore. "Listen to them," Carol rolled her eyes as she filed her nails, then began chewing on a hangnail. "Idiots, all of them."

Eric saw Michael looking around nervously, and he didn't know where the words came from, but they decided to blurt out. As much as the idea of coming out scared him, he knew how ecstatic Michael would be to hear those words said out loud, in front of everyone, and he would feel good getting that sort of reaction. "I know there's been some weird stuff going on, and I think it's time we let you all in on it," Eric blurted out loudly. He didn't know where those words came from, as they literally exploded from his chest. "Mike and I – "

The door opened and John came in, looking rather annoyed as Graham followed him in, his eyes still sleepy. "Sorry we're late, I had to pick up Graham," John said huffily. He moved to the group and stood next to Terry J, looking around and doing a double take at Terry's outfit. "Oh…so that's where my tie went," he reached over to pull the end of the striped tie. "I was wondering where it disappeared to. I found yours on the floor,"

"I'm sorry," Terry grinned at him, then winked at Michael and Eric. "I couldn't see very well in the dark."

**THE END**


End file.
